


Prompt Answers  and Short drabbles Collection

by Pikkulef



Series: Original characters and their original stories, not all well fitted together [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-10-05 15:58:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17328071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pikkulef/pseuds/Pikkulef
Summary: Since I tend to reply to prompts or just randomly write short things with my OCs, I've decided to collect them in this, because I like having all my stuff in the same place. It's more for me than anything else, but I hope anyone curious about them will enjoy this.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt "You’ve got a fever, of course I’m not going anywhere."
> 
> This is old, but I just realized I had not posted it here, so now it is.

Knocks on the door. Must be Farid with the groceries. Desden got up from his sofa, dragging the covers with him, draping himself in them. To hell with being presentable.   
He opened the door, gently pushing the dog away.   
“Hey.”   
It was not Farid.   
“Uh. Hey?  
“It’s Diane. Can I come in? I got your groceries.   
“Yes, uh. Please come in.” He flattened himself against the wall, suddenly very aware he was wearing old rags, almost pyjamas, and his glasses weren’t on his nose. He felt his cheeks warm up.

“Farid told Laurence to ask me to do the shopping for you,” Diane explained from the kitchen, where Desden caught up with her, slowly, while blowing his nose.   
“Says he has a bad case of the flu, he’s in bed, and she couldn’t go… seems you’ve seen him not too long ago, judging by your face.” She sneered. He had cowlicks even with his short hair, most of them on the left side, where his cheek had the traces of folds in the cushion he had slept on. His pyjamas were all crinkled and bore traces of heavy sweating around the neck – his hair was damp on the neck. There were bags under his eyes that were half closed, more than usual, a testament to how tired he was. He was still habitually wearing his glasses next to her, but was getting less and less guarded around that, and she was happy about it. But right then, he looked like shit, and this wasn’t making her happy.   
“What face?  
“The face of someone who was sleeping on the couch. And sweating.  
“Yeah, I’m not in my best moment.” He tilted his head and passed a hand in his hair. It was nice to see her but he was embarrassed. He didn’t want her to see him at this time. He must look like shit. “Just… just leave the stuff here or in the fridge and go.” He gestured over his shoulder. “You’re going to catch this.   
“Are you feverish? You really look bad, you know.   
“I don’t know. Thanks for this, but you really shouldn’t stay. Just go.  
“Well, for once, you need me to label the three or four tin cans there’s in the bags or you’re in for a surprise meal one day or another.” Diane, placing a few fresh vegetables in the fridge, heard him groan. She turned to him once she was done. “Secondly, don’t move.”

He tried to put what he hoped was a wary expression on his face. “What are you doing?

“Testing if you got fever.”

“What would it change? I’m sick, that I know” he muttered, and his voice was starting to disappear. Diane had closed in on him and, one hand on his chest, had placed the other on his forehead. She was obviously unbalanced, probably on tiptoes. He bended a little, so she could be more comfortable, and cleared his throat. There was no way she would be able to tell if this was fever for real – his cheeks were burning, and this was not the flu.

“You’re boiling.”

“Yeah, thanks, doc.” He tilted his head backwards, to detach his forehead from her hand, feeling dizzy. No idea if it was the flu, the fever or something else. “Now. Go. We’ll label the cans some other time, with you or Farid. Flu sucks, you don’t want it. Go home.

“You’ve got a fever, of course I’m not going anywhere. I got my shot a month ago. Not like you, it seems.” Now she had placed both hands on his chest – he was way too aware of them through his t-shirt – and gently pushed him back, making him retreat in the living room.

“I remember the last time you cooked for me for a week. Let me give it back. You sit down,” she pulled on the cover on his shoulders to close in on his chest. “I’ll make something for you.”

Five minutes later, Desden was holding a mug that smelled heavily of rum, honey and lemon, trying not to think about misplaced kitchen appliances, but still with a smile on his face. Diane was putting the TV on, a stupid reality show for them to bitch about as they did sometimes when they spent evening together – it was always an experience to hear her describe the people there. In fact, she never talked as much usually. She’d leave when he fell asleep. Or not.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt "You're cold. Come here."

They had been walking for a quarter of an hour. Oddly, in silence. This was usual for Diane, who was often happy to let Desden handle the conversation, but not so much for him.

Desden was just enjoying it. Everything. The sound and feel of snow under his shoes. The strong perfume of pines, looming behind the stinging scent of cold and ice. The cold air on his face – but no wind, he was glad there wasn’t. It had been years since he had enjoyed a walk in the snow, and he was going to take in every second of it. He often said he hated snow. There was nothing less true. He was from these parts, had grown up with heavy snow in winter, going down the short slopes on old sledges and later hand-me-down skis from his parents or cousins. It was just… a lot less practical for him. But being there with Diane, and this short walk, was great. He could tell he had a stupid smile on his face but there was no way he could erase it.

There was a flat sound behind them, and he halted, stopping Diane, and Kalinka, at the same time.

“What was that?

“Hm. S-snow falling from b-branches, I’d say? Yeah,” she turned briefly, “Looks like that.

“Oh, yes. Of course. I had forgotten that. As long as we don’t get some on our head.”

He started walking, then paused again. He couldn’t feel her arm tensing under his hand through the multiple layers she was wearing and his own gloves, but he could get the overall way she was walking. And… the way she talked, and that sound…

“Are you alright?

“Y-yeah, f-fine.

“Your teeth are shattering, you can’t even talk properly.” He took off one of his gloves and found her hand. She wasn’t wearing anything, and her fingers were freezing.

“You’re cold. Come here.”

Before Diane could react, Desden had let go of his dog’s leash and pulled her against him, getting out of his jacket at the same time.

“N-no, it’s okay, I tell you. K-keep your j-jacket.

“I’ll be fine, 'cause we’re going back to the car, now. You’re not staying outside like this.” He fumbled with his jacket and managed to put it on her reluctant shoulders. She finally complied, noticing he had one of his incredibly thick handknitted jumpers on.

“How come you don’t have gloves?” Desden tilted his head on the right –something totally unconscious – as he asked, while trying to warm her up by rubbing her arms.

“I f-forgot them home in o-our r-rush, realized when we g-got here.”

Desden let his arms fall to his sides and had an exasperated sigh. This happened often. And it was not the part about forgetting.

“Why didn’t you say anything? We wouldn’t have stayed out so long.

“You looked too happy for that. Didn’t want to ruin the mood.”

He sighed again, a less angry one that time. He shook his head, then took her hands in his to warm them up, leaning and bringing them to his face so he could breathe on them.

“What am I going to do with you?”

Diane shrugged, but also let out a loud sigh, which let him know about her reaction. Carefully, he pulled on her hands to bring her closer yet, and leaned again to give her a hug. And rub her back.

When he talked against her neck, it warmed her better. “What do you think about a hot chocolate when we get back?”

She chuckled, half because he was tickling her. Then she gently pushed him away and firmly placed his hand on her elbow so they could start walking back.

“I know you. No Chartreuse in mine.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No prompt for this one, I just felt like writing it and it's a way to introduce finally Farid in person. He's a cutie.

Desden sat on his sofa with a contented sigh. He’d just come back from various errands after work, and was looking forward to a nice, relaxed evening. He was considering opening a bottle of fresh beer when his phone started ringing. 

 

He’d swapped the automated voice for music for his closest friends and family, and  _ Master of Puppets _ started playing instead - Farid. He had chosen his song himself - a privilege granted only to… well, only to him. 

“Yeah?    
“Hey! You home?” Farid sounded very excited, which was surprising, coming from him. “Yeah.   
“Brilliant. Come down here, bro. I have something to show you!” This made Desden curious - but he wouldn’t admit it. Farid was usually a very laid back man, rarely prone to gushing. In fact, it was Desden who was known to be the most effusive of the two. Yet this sounded like Farid was very eager to share something. 

 

_ Down _ would mean the basement, as Farid spent most of the time he had free from work or his children in there, repairing old toys or various appliances for the whole neighbourhood. This part of the basement was a common room for the people who lived in the building, but he had somehow made it his den, and people respected it, since he was doing all the reparations for free.    
  


“Since when do you call me bro?” Desden frowned with a chuckle.    
“Since I hear it’s cool.    
“You spend too much time with children, you know that?    
“Maybe. Are you coming or do I have to come fetch you?    
“I just got home,” Desden whined.    
“Come ooooon! I really want to show you!” 

Farid, his friend Farid, the one who was always so calm and contained… who was that? He sounded like his daughters. Desden smiled. But it was too funny not to play with it a little more.    
“Well, send me a pic.    
“That’s horrendously funny. One day I’ll do it and you’ll feel sorry for yourself.    
“I don’t do this, others do it for me quite well.      
“Are you coming? Please?   
Desden had an exaggerated sigh, cut by a brief chuckle at his friend’s tone. “Yeah, alright. Coming.    
“Good.” Farid hung up. 

 

Desden groaned. He decided he didn’t need Kalinka to get down a few set of stairs, and left her in the flat. He still took his foldaway cane, more by reflex than anything else, put it in his jeans back pocket, locked the door and got down. 

 

The door to the basement was immediately to the left at the bottom of the stairs, and he pushed it, welcomed by a sharp “STOP!” from Farid.    
  


“What?” Desden just stood there, in the half opened door.    
“There’s a toy just there. One of the girls left it, I didn’t notice. Here,” Farid handed him a light object, “Hold it for me, please.    
Curiously feeling the object, Desden discovered a small plastic horse, its mane and tail irremediably tangled in a coarse mess.    
“And now?   
“Just stay there, let me push a few things away. Where’s your dog?    
“I told you I just came home. Couldn’t be arsed. I don’t need her just to go to the basement. 

“Fair enough”, Farid let out between two grunts. “Here we go !” There was a broad smile in Farid’s voice.  

“Can I come in now, then?    
“Yeah.” Farid losely rubbed his hands to get rid of dust, and walked up to his friend to pat his shoulder as a greeting. He then stayed close, guiding him without much contact needed, in this small place. It was something that had become natural between the two. And there wasn’t much to guide him towards - the thing he wanted to show him was just there, he just had to extend his arm.    
“How much of a mess can this place be, that you’re all over me like that?    
“It’s not  _ that _ messy.    
“Yeah, sure.” Desden let the last word drag. Laurence probably never set a foot in that place, lest she had a heart attack. “So,” Desden asked, fiddling with the toy horse in his hands, “Where’s your awesome thing?    
“Gimme back that horse before you break it. It’s not ready yet.” Farid talked, fast, excitation palpable in his voice yet again. He took the toy from Desden’s hands. “We won’t be able to use it until I fix it for good, but once it is, I think we’ll have a blast.    
“What the hell is this? 

“Feel for yourself, it’s on your left. Arm’s lenght.”

Farid watched as Desden extended his arm, a quizzical frown on his face, and as he found the thing.    
“This?   
“Yup.    
“I have no idea what that would be, and I’m afraid, now.” Desden let out with a laugh.    
“You’re just no fun.    
“Okay, okay, I’ll look better, wait.”

 

Desden had touched a metallic thing, like a horizontal pipe. He moved his hands along it, towards the left, and realized he was also following thin cables, that lead to…    
“Handlebars.” Desden sighed. “That’s a bike. You want  _ me _ to bike?   
“Look better.    
“What, is it a self driving bike?” He muttered, puzzled. What about a bike would be interesting for him? Not much. But he trusted Farid, who was definitely not the kind to make bad jokes at his expense, so he dutifully continued, and turned to the right. 

 

He moved quicker now and felt the seat, and then… another set of handlebars. The bike then continued to another seat. 

 

“Oh, shit!” He let his hands fall to his sides and took a step away, a smile on his face. He knew what this was, but wouldn’t have expected it. Not after all this time. 

“Told you it was cool!    
“You just bought a fucking tandem!” Desden couldn’t help but grin. In fact, he felt like jumping around. “When was the last time we talked about this? Years ago?” Desden now was as excited as Farid. He moved a lot while talking, and when one of his hands accidentally bumped into Farid’s shoulder, he quickly pulled him into a short hug.    
“This is bloody fantastic.”    
Farid laughed, giving into the hug and patting his friend’s shoulder again.    
“I can’t wait to try it. How come you found one?    
“Well, I’ve been looking for a cheap one for years… you’re not exactly helping, being that tall.” Farid gave a mock tap on Desden’s head. “Oddly enough most of the ones I found were... “women” sized. “Women” in brackets. Small ones.    
“Yeah, I got that. Not that it meant it was pink or else.    
“Would it bother you?    
“If it was? Nah, your daughters would love it. In fact we  _ should  _ paint it pink.    
“Sold. I can do a quick paint job - it’s a pretty ugly, fading blue for now. I need to change the tyres, the brakes… but it cost me ten euros, so…”    
Desden clapped his hands. “I don’t know what to say. This is great. Except, you know it’s been nearly ten years I haven’t been on a bike, right?    
“Well, we’ll finally be able to test that thing that says you never forget it, I guess.    
“And balance wise…” Desden walked to the bike again, placing his hand on the seat, thinking. Farid clicked his tongue, then replied:      
“We should try, don’t you think? And if it doesn’t work, once it’s repaired I’ll be able to sell it for a lot more than ten euros. I don’t think it’s a bad investment, do you?    
“Nah, I’m just… I hope it works, is all.    
“It will, I’m sure. We need to find a place where we’ll be left alone to train, that’s it. I’ll look around, see if I can find something.    
“I’ll buy a good helmet, too.” Desden ran one of his hands through his hair, stopping and resting a short moment at the back of his head.“Maybe I’ll get two. My present for you in exchange.    
“Not too fond of head traumas, are you?    
“Eeeeh, strangely, not. I know, I’m full of surprises.” They both had a short laugh. Then Desden turned away from the bike. 

“Thank you. It’s really a great idea, and I can’t wait to try.” Desden nodded to himself, then added: “You’re alone tonight?    
“At least until the girls come back, so probably until dinner.    
“Good. Come have a beer,  _ my bro _ .” 


End file.
